


We Are Not Our Fathers

by TonySnark (Sherlocked729)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Depression, M/M, Minor Suicide Attempt, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Smoking, just a minor one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-17 09:27:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10591164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlocked729/pseuds/TonySnark
Summary: The Aurors are ordered to terminate any Death Eaters they come across, no questions asked. Harry has a duty to do but it's difficult to do your job when you start falling in love with the very man you have to kill.





	1. Collision

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a short chapter. Call it a taster chap. If you like it, review please! :) The next chapter will be longer if enough people want me too continue it. 
> 
> Also, more tags will be added as the story goes on.

.  .  .

 

**Draco’s POV**

 

It had been several months since the war ended and everyone Draco had been friends with in school was dead.

He knew this for a fact. He had watched their bodies fall to the ground and the life leave their eyes. He had seen most of it happen away from the castle itself as his friends had decided to change sides at the last minute and started to fight against the Death Eaters instead of with them. Draco hadn’t known what to do after he watched his father skitter away like the coward he was. Draco Malfoy had watched with conflicted eyes as Harry Potter and all his friends started to battle with the enemy and fight or their lives. Watching the Hero do this, Draco felt a courage he had never felt before and started to fight against all the Death Eaters as well as the other Slytherins who had decided to pick the wrong side in this fight.

About a month after the War ended, Aurors were ordered to start searching every nook and cranny for stray Death Eaters and to terminate them on the spot. Draco only knew this because of the written warnings in letters his father had sent him by owl.

He had several long, jagged scars all over his body as proof of the event that had taken place, the event that still haunted his mind even after it had ended. He would have been completely homeless if it was not for his mother sending him a couple Galleons and Sickles here and there to the abandoned apartment he had found sanctuary in.

He heard the _tap tap tap_ on the glass window and opened it up before closing it again, the cool Fall air making him shiver as he let one of the Malfoy owls inside to find some warmth from the elements. He took the letter from its talons carefully and opened it before reading:

_Draco,_

_You are my only son, and I hope you are still alive and well. Do not trust anyone, not even the ones that bear our Mark. Some became blood traitors and are looking to kill us off, one by one. I fear your mother has also secretly deserted her loyalties. You can trust me. I am the only one, and if you are still the man I raised you to be, you will continue to do your duties as well. I’m ordering you to kill any Aurors that you come across, as well as any non-pureblood wizard or witch. We’ll rise up again, son, just remember: It starts with you. You are our new Savior. You are our new hope._

_With love,_

_Lucius_

Draco sighed heavily and stuffed the note into his pants pockets. Like he could actually kill an Auror if he came across one. His wand was lost to the void. Or rather, he had broken it in battle trying to save his own skin, but how did his father expect him to kill the Aurors? By hand?

He knew that he should set the note on fire, to get rid of any evidence but he figured if he kept all the notes his father sent him, he could use them against him if worse came to worse. He felt the cold texture of his last two Sickles in his pockets and then felt his stomach rumble with hunger. He couldn’t remember the last time he had actually eaten anything. He had barely even slept longer than an hour a night, and it was starting to show on his face. Dark circles made his paleness stand out more than it ever did, as well as his jaunt cheekbones. Draco still had some muscle on him but that was probably what his body had started to feed off now.

He put his hood up to cover his blonde hair and hurried out of the building before he headed for The Hog’s Head pub. It was late, around 1 a.m. Not many people would be inside at this hour. He would be chancing it with the Aurors around but he was so hungry that he was desperate and feeling lightheaded.

He slipped inside and quietly and sat at one of the tables and pulled down his sleeves before placing his Two Sickles on the table as the only waiter in the place came over. Draco could feel his eyes piercing into him so coldly he felt chilled.

“What can I get you?”

“H-Hot chocolate… please,” he replied, shoving the coins closer to the man.

He waited until he took Draco’s money and left to go make his drink before he cast his eyes upwards when a familiar mop of dark hair walked inside.  He felt his stomach sink when he saw the uniform he had been warned about by his father. An Auror uniform, and Harry Potter was fucking wearing it.  
  


 

**Harry’s POV**

He had been on duty since three this morning and he was exhausted. Harry was so tired of killing Death Eaters and saving people from them. He thought he was done saving people after the war. He had been told that the only thing he would have to do on the job is kill supporters of Voldemort but that had apparently been told just to sucker him into the job.

He was sore and bruised from fighting all day today. He deserved a drink or two.

Harry walked into the pub and habitually straightened out his uniform before he looked around and asked the bartender for a beer. Then, his eyes finally rested upon the only man at a table by himself. _Fuck._ He didn’t want to keep working tonight. He needed a break. He sighed tiredly and walked over to the man. When he got close enough, he saw silver-ish blue eyes and swallowed hard, suddenly realized who this man was. Obviously Harry was the only one who did recognize him because if anyone else did, they were either Death Eaters as well or they would have reported him in the area. It was pure coincidence that he had walked in here at this time on this day.

This wasn’t the same Draco Malfoy he remembered in school, though. This man looked at least fifteen pounds smaller and had tired eyes. He was hunched over and immediately wrapped his hands around the warm cup of hot chocolate the waiter delivered at that moment. Harry waited until he was out of ear shot before he cleared his throat and sat down across from Draco.

He watched as the man stiffened and knew that Draco knew who he was and more importantly, _what_ he was. He felt himself tense up now and felt stupid. Harry had a job to do. He needed to do it.

Right here.

Right now.

He had two options. He could: A) Act as though the man in front of him wasn’t a Death Eater, and someone else he was actually friends with, or B) Kill Draco Malfoy where he sat with two simple words. It had been a long day and he was tired of murdering the murderers.

He swallowed hard and felt his stomach do a flip flop as he glanced over at the bartender and waiter and lowered his voice so only Draco would hear him.

“Meet me outside.”

He stood up and walked outside, hoping that Draco would take his command seriously. He waited several minutes for him, forcing himself to be patient. He glanced in the window and saw Draco sipping the cup of hot chocolate before he finished it and then walked out to where Harry was. He saw fear flicker in Draco’s eyes but it also looked like the man was steeling himself in preparation. When they walked over to a spot out of sight of any curious eyes, he felt his heart sink.

Draco’s slender hands were shaking and the fear had grown on his face.

 _He thought Harry was going to kill him._ Well, wasn’t he going to?

Harry ran a hand through his hair and looked at Draco with gentle, but serious eyes as he took out his wand and held it in his hand, just in case. He stared at the now broken man in front of him and saw no trace of sneer or smirk. He looked just as broken and run down as Harry felt. Who the hell was he kidding? He wasn’t going to kill this man. It was no longer Draco Malfoy, or a Death Eater. It was just another victim of the war that hadn’t been killed.

“What are you doing here, Malfoy?” He made sure his voice wasn’t threatening but he saw Draco flinch a bit anyway and shift his weight.

Draco pursed his lips now and dug a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit it with a muggle lighter. “It’s a free country. I can get hot chocolate if I want.”

The sight of the muggle lighter distracted Harry and Draco’s words got lost.

“W-Where’s your wand, Draco?”

“What?” Draco asked as he took a drag.

“Your wand. Did you lose it or…?” Harry trailed off, hoping he would catch on.

“It broke. Why do you suddenly care about my wand? Like it even fucking matters anymore.” Draco voice was heavy, weary.

Harry sighed and watched as Draco took another drag before he suddenly reached out and grabbed the cigarette from between Draco’s lips and threw it on the ground before he stepped on it and moved closer to Draco, who took a step back from him and looked up at Harry cautiously.

“I’m not going to terminate you tonight, Draco. You need to get the hell out of here and back to wherever you’re staying. You can’t come around here anymore. Someone’s going to figure out who you are and report you. Do you understand?”

The blonde opened his mouth to argue but he nodded.

“Good. Now get out of here. I don’t want to see you again.” The words didn’t sound cruel or angry coming out of Harry’s mouth. “If I see you again, I’ll have no choice but to kill you. You know that, don’t you?”

Draco chewed on his bottom lip and nodded again before he walked around Harry and walked away from him, heading back towards his apartment building. Harry waited until he could no longer see him before he did a once over around Hogsmeade and then apparated back home before falling into bed.

 


	2. A Second Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry runs into Draco again.

**.     .     .**

 

  
**Draco’s POV**

 ****  
  
He had his eyes closed for hours and managed to fall asleep for about half an hour before a nightmare forced him awake again. He sat upright, breathing heavy as sweat matted his forehead. He rubbed his eyes with his palms and looked around to verify that his nightmare hadn’t come to life. No one was here.

He stood up and walked over to the faucet and turned it on before he splashed his face. No one really cared about people using utilities and not having paid for them, at least not right now. Draco figured that this was still a grace period until people got readjusted to civilian life once again. He took a deep breath to calm himself down before he felt his stomach rumble again. This time he ignored it; he couldn’t go back into the village to grab something to eat, at least not during the day. The sun was shining into the room and he felt more lost than ever.

Where did he belong? _Did_ he belong at all?

The Mark on his forearm was a constant reminder that he was still technically a Death Eater, even if he unofficially gave up the position. He had no family that wanted him unless he decided to obey their wishes and kill non-Purebloods and Aurors. He had no friends alive. Harry had been the first human contact Draco had experienced in several months since the war ended. He paced the building, feeling antsy. He felt trapped in this shithole that was falling apart.

He knew he should shower but he didn’t have any other clothes and it seemed redundant to shower and put old clothes back on. He felt dizzy, close to passing out. The hot chocolate had been a nice treat but it was no substitute for actual food. Draco forced himself to sit down on the couch and watched the sun rise, making the sky bleed a pink color, and maybe even being a reminder that he wasn’t completely alone in the world.

He sat there and watched the sun outside his window for what must have been a few hours because he lost track of time and he suddenly heard a loud noise come from the floor below him. He tensed up now and stood up quickly, too quickly, and nearly fell back down onto the old couch. He regained his balance and he walked backwards, deciding he could punch out the window if someone came up here. He could either jump out and run or just grab the glass and use that as a weapon. Both were weak options but saw no way he would get out of this situation alive. He wouldn’t go to Azkaban, no way in Hell.

The steps came closer as they climbed the stairs and when the figure came closer, he saw the same uniform he had seen last night, with the same person inside of it.

Fuck.

 

 

**Harry’s POV**

It was only 6 a.m. and he had already killed ten Death Eaters. They were like goddamn cockroaches; when he killed one, three more just popped up again. It seemed like a thankless job. He had narrowly managed to escape the last fight with one, sustaining several shallow scrapes on his skin. He hadn’t done this block of buildings and most of them were currently abandoned so there had to be at least one. He held onto his wand tightly as he entered one of the buildings and headed up the stairs.

He glanced around quickly, looking for any sign of a Death Eater but this building appeared to be completely abandoned, until he saw a figure at the end of the second floor, standing near a window. He moved closer, cautiously and stopped dead when he saw Draco’s blonde hair and his gun metal eyes staring back at him.

_What were the fucking odds?_

He side-stepped towards Draco carefully but stopped when he saw the other man suddenly break the glass on the window and grab a large shard. He instinctively aimed his wand at Draco but didn’t speak any spells. “Draco, put it down! I’m not going to – I won’t –" He stopped himself, remembering last night and the words he had spoken to Draco.

It made sense why Draco wasn’t too pleased to see him right now. The look of desperation in the other man’s eyes scared him to death, though.

“Y-You said you would kill me, Potter! If y-you saw me again!”

Harry’s blood ran cold when he watched Draco raise the glass shard to his throat where his Adam’s apple was. He felt his palms start to sweat nervously and took another step closer to him, slowly. “I won’t, Draco. I won’t kill you. Y-You need help. Let me help you…”

Draco pressed the shard against his skin so a thin river of blood started streaming down his neck, onto his grey shirt. “You just want to help me right into bloody A-Azkaban!”

Harry let out a shaky gasp as he saw the blood and saw Draco grip the glass harder, making his palm bleed.

“No! No, Draco… I won’t… I-I promise. Look at you! Look at the place you’re living! You haven’t slept or eaten in days. Please, just let me help you and then you can go wherever you want. I won’t even tell anyone else that I saw you!” Harry was yelling out of worry and fear more than anger or frustration. The last thing he wanted to happen right now was to watch Draco slit open his own throat right here and bleed out.

If this was the same Draco from school, he might _might_ consider it, but the person standing before him was not the same Draco Malfoy. This man looked desperate and he knew there was no way that the stubborn bastard was going to let himself get thrown into Azkaban alive. Maybe Harry might feel the same way if he were in Draco’s shoes right now. It seemed wrong to judge him too harshly, after all, he had seen him blast a Death Eater away from him during the war, giving him enough time to use a killing curse on it.

Harry felt relief when he watched as Draco dropped the glass onto the floor with a clatter.

He put his wand down and back into his pants before he held out his hand to Draco to help him over the other debris that littered the floor but Draco knocked his hand away and walked past him. Harry sighed, knowing that it was going to be an interesting experience at Grimmauld Place. He didn’t know what he was going to do with him once they got there but he couldn’t leave him out here in good conscious to starve to death.

It seemed to go without saying that he was going to get fired for this, letting a well-known Death Eater come back home to live with him.  He hadn’t completely made his mind up what he would have to do to make himself terminate Draco Malfoy though. Maybe if Draco tried to kill him first, he could terminate him then and say it was self-defense, which would be true. But then again, there was a small part of him that wanted to see if this was indeed the same Draco from school, or if he had actually changed for real.

Keeping him alive was going to prove to be a social experiment more than a nice gesture.

 

  
**Draco’s POV**

He clenched his hand into a tight fist, as if he could somehow hold his bleeding inside. His heart was still racing in his chest as he stopped walking and waited for Harry outside. He dabbed the blood on his neck with his sleeve and held it there, figuring he might be able to live another day. His adrenaline was still pumping in his body and when he felt Harry’s hand on his shoulder, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

When he opened his eyes again, they were inside the doors of Grimmauld Place. He glanced around as Kreacher approached them. He glanced over at Harry who nodded at him in greeting and then spoke.

“Kreacher, Draco is going to be staying with us for a bit so… do your best to see to it he gets fed and give him anything else he might require.”

The house-elf looked like he wanted to bow to Draco but stopped, nodding obediently instead before he disappeared into the kitchen. Draco glanced around the house, never having stepped foot inside a place that technically used to be Bellatrix Lestrange’s home as well; it was an odd feeling.

“Can I look at your hand? It probably needs stitches.”

Draco had half forgotten about his hand as well as his neck. He nodded and hesitantly handed Harry his hand, feeling a tingling sensation run through his body when he felt Harry examine it. He searched Harry’s face and felt unsure why he was even here. He shouldn’t have let Harry bring him back here. This was a mistake. Harry was going to kill him, one way or another. He _had_ to. They had been enemies in school and now Draco was to believe that they could put their grudges aside and suddenly get along? It was unrealistic.

“It does need stitches. Come with me into the bathroom and then you can shower and put fresh clothes on.”

Draco followed him upstairs towards the bathroom, passing three separate bedrooms along the way. The rooms looked tidy, nearly spotless, but it still had that magical charm to it; candles floated in the corners of the room Harry had led him into. There was a couple candles floating above the mirror in the bathroom and he watched as Harry pulled out a needle and thread and a small white rag before he held it firmly to Draco’s open cut on his palm, causing him to hiss and flinch back in pain.

“S-Sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you but… we need to stop the bleeding, Draco,” Harry spoke softly, looking at him with kind eyes.

He nodded reluctantly and moved his hand back over to him so Harry could fix him up. He looked away, unable to watch the needle pierce his skin. He let out a strangled groan when he felt it.

“Before we get too comfortable here, I need to make sure that we’re on the same page.”

Draco nodded, breathing heavily as Harry started to quickly, but carefully stitch him up. “O-Okay…”

“Good,” Harry used his free hand to gently roll up Draco’s sleeve, an action that Draco started to protest but then saw the look in Harry’s eyes and sighed, letting the ex-Gryffindor reveal his Mark on his forearm. He heard a deep sigh come out of Harry, almost as if he were disappointed, but then he felt him continue to go back to stitching again. “I saw you fighting other Death Eaters that day.”

“You want to know what side I’m on,” Draco spoke knowingly, finally turning his head back towards him.

“That would be nice to know. It would also make my job a lot easier.”

Harry finished sewing his wound up and cut off the excess with his wand and wrapped gauze around his hand a few times. He then tilted Draco’s head up to look at the shallow cut on his neck.

“I-It wouldn’t matter what side I’m on,” Draco replied quietly. “No one would believe it if you told them I was on your side. They won’t believe I’ve changed.”

Harry put a quick butterfly bandage on the cut and then threw out the papers and excess thread. He was quiet for a while before he leaned against the sink and searched Draco’s eyes. “They’ll believe me if I tell them. Look, I’m tired of killing the bad guys and being that person that has to save the day. I’ve gone through seven years of that bullshit and I just can’t do it anymore, Draco. Whatever answer you give me, I’m not going to turn you in, and… I’m not going to kill you. I just want you to tell me the truth, the _whole_ truth. If we’re going to live here together, we need to be able to trust the other person. So, what’s your answer? What side are you on?”

Draco swallowed hard, feeling his insides hardening as conflict took over his eyes. He took a shaky sigh. “I… want to be your side. I’m tired of being on the wrong one, and I’m tired of watching everyone I know die and… I’m tired of my father telling me what I should be, but…” he trailed off, groaning in frustration. “I can’t. I can’t do this. I can’t be what everyone wants me to be. It’s… i-it’s too much! It’s too much…”

He felt tears burning in his eyes and he quickly reached up to rub them, looking away. He wasn’t going to fucking cry in front of Potter, for seemingly no reason at all. Anxiety wasn’t a good excuse to cry. He cleared his throat, suddenly realizing how dry it was.

“Hey, it’s all right,” Harry tried to reassure him, obviously surprised to see him breaking down like this. “You don’t have to _be_ anything. Just take a shower, I’ll leave, and come downstairs for lunch and… we can talk some more if you want. We can just… talk about whatever. I didn’t mean to upset you, okay? Here,” Harry said as he grabbed a large, crimson towel and placed it on the sink. “Take a deep breath, get clean. Pretend I didn’t ask you anything. Are you going to be all right, man?”

Draco was taken back by Harry’s caring tone of voice. He found himself slowly relaxing again and then nodded.

“Good. I’ll see you downstairs soon then.” He slipped out of the room, leaving Draco to his thoughts.

 _Goddamn it. Why did he have to show weakness right then, in front of Potter?_ He had never done that. He had always been the one quick with a snarky comeback or a quick counter spell. But he felt completely derailed being in Harry’s presence again. His father would be ashamed of him, on every level.

Draco hadn’t had the stones to kill Harry, the Auror. He had let himself be caught and taken back to a secret location where Harry could just call anyone he wanted to come and kill Draco themselves. He was such a fucking disappointment. The situation was just so ridiculous. And of course, there was the matter that every time he saw the dark-haired boy, his heart fluttered in his chest and his stomach tightened nervously.

But maybe that was just the authoritarian aspect of this particular situation. Then again, maybe it was something else entirely.


	3. Which Side Are You On?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry tries to talk sense into Draco while Draco panics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all like this chapter! Thanks so much for bookmarking it as well as those few who have commented! :)

**.     .     .**

 

  
**Draco’s POV**

 ****  
  
He had his eyes closed for hours and managed to fall asleep for about half an hour before a nightmare forced him awake again. He sat upright, breathing heavy as sweat matted his forehead. He rubbed his eyes with his palms and looked around to verify that his nightmare hadn’t come to life. No one was here.

He stood up and walked over to the faucet and turned it on before he splashed his face. No one really cared about people using utilities and not having paid for them, at least not right now. Draco figured that this was still a grace period until people got readjusted to civilian life once again. He took a deep breath to calm himself down before he felt his stomach rumble again. This time he ignored it; he couldn’t go back into the village to grab something to eat, at least not during the day. The sun was shining into the room and he felt more lost than ever.

Where did he belong? _Did_ he belong at all?

The Mark on his forearm was a constant reminder that he was still technically a Death Eater, even if he unofficially gave up the position. He had no family that wanted him unless he decided to obey their wishes and kill non-Purebloods and Aurors. He had no friends alive. Harry had been the first human contact Draco had experienced in several months since the war ended. He paced the building, feeling antsy. He felt trapped in this shithole that was falling apart.

He knew he should shower but he didn’t have any other clothes and it seemed redundant to shower and put old clothes back on. He felt dizzy, close to passing out. The hot chocolate had been a nice treat but it was no substitute for actual food. Draco forced himself to sit down on the couch and watched the sun rise, making the sky bleed a pink color, and maybe even being a reminder that he wasn’t completely alone in the world.

He sat there and watched the sun outside his window for what must have been a few hours because he lost track of time and he suddenly heard a loud noise come from the floor below him. He tensed up now and stood up quickly, too quickly, and nearly fell back down onto the old couch. He regained his balance and he walked backwards, deciding he could punch out the window if someone came up here. He could either jump out and run or just grab the glass and use that as a weapon. Both were weak options but saw no way he would get out of this situation alive. He wouldn’t go to Azkaban, no way in Hell.

The steps came closer as they climbed the stairs and when the figure came closer, he saw the same uniform he had seen last night, with the same person inside of it.

Fuck.

 

 

**Harry’s POV**

It was only 6 a.m. and he had already killed ten Death Eaters. They were like goddamn cockroaches; when he killed one, three more just popped up again. It seemed like a thankless job. He had narrowly managed to escape the last fight with one, sustaining several shallow scrapes on his skin. He hadn’t done this block of buildings and most of them were currently abandoned so there had to be at least one. He held onto his wand tightly as he entered one of the buildings and headed up the stairs.

He glanced around quickly, looking for any sign of a Death Eater but this building appeared to be completely abandoned, until he saw a figure at the end of the second floor, standing near a window. He moved closer, cautiously and stopped dead when he saw Draco’s blonde hair and his gun metal eyes staring back at him.

_What were the fucking odds?_

He side-stepped towards Draco carefully but stopped when he saw the other man suddenly break the glass on the window and grab a large shard. He instinctively aimed his wand at Draco but didn’t speak any spells. “Draco, put it down! I’m not going to – I won’t –" He stopped himself, remembering last night and the words he had spoken to Draco.

It made sense why Draco wasn’t too pleased to see him right now. The look of desperation in the other man’s eyes scared him to death, though.

“Y-You said you would kill me, Potter! If y-you saw me again!”

Harry’s blood ran cold when he watched Draco raise the glass shard to his throat where his Adam’s apple was. He felt his palms start to sweat nervously and took another step closer to him, slowly. “I won’t, Draco. I won’t kill you. Y-You need help. Let me help you…”

Draco pressed the shard against his skin so a thin line of blood started streaming down his neck, onto his grey shirt. “You just want to help me right into bloody A-Azkaban!”

Harry let out a shaky gasp as he saw the blood and saw Draco grip the glass harder, making his palm bleed.

“No! No, Draco… I won’t… I-I promise. Look at you! Look at the place you’re living! You haven’t slept or eaten in days. Please, just let me help you and then you can go wherever you want. I won’t even tell anyone else that I saw you!” Harry was yelling out of worry and fear more than anger or frustration. The last thing he wanted to happen right now was to watch Draco slit open his own throat right here and bleed out.

If this was the same Draco from school, he might _might_ consider it, but the person standing before him was not the same Draco Malfoy. This man looked desperate and he knew there was no way that the stubborn bastard was going to let himself get thrown into Azkaban alive. Maybe Harry might feel the same way if he were in Draco’s shoes right now. It seemed wrong to judge him too harshly, after all, he had seen him blast a Death Eater away from him during the war, giving him enough time to use a killing curse on it.

Harry felt relief when he watched as Draco dropped the glass onto the floor with a clatter.

He put his wand down and back into his pants before he held out his hand to Draco to help him over the other debris that littered the floor but Draco knocked his hand away and walked past him. Harry sighed, knowing that it was going to be an interesting experience at Grimmauld Place. He didn’t know what he was going to do with him once they got there but he couldn’t leave him out here in good conscious to starve to death.

It seemed to go without saying that he was going to get fired for this, letting a well-known Death Eater come back home to live with him.  He hadn’t completely made his mind up what he would have to do to make himself terminate Draco Malfoy though. Maybe if Draco tried to kill him first, he could terminate him then and say it was self-defense, which would be true. But then again, there was a small part of him that wanted to see if this was indeed the same Draco from school, or if he had actually changed for real.

Keeping him alive was going to prove to be a social experiment more than a nice gesture. Or at least that’s what he wanted to believe. 

 

  
**Draco’s POV**

He clenched his hand into a tight fist, as if he could somehow hold his bleeding inside. His heart was still racing in his chest as he stopped walking and waited for Harry outside. He dabbed the blood on his neck with his sleeve and held it there, figuring he might be able to live another day. Draco Malfoy was no stranger to blood, especially his own. His father Lucius had spent many a day knocking him into walls when he had too much firewhiskey, as well as when he was stone sober. There had been many nights when he would fall into the table and knock over cups, cutting his hands and legs open on broken shards on the floor, and he would have to heal himself manually.

His adrenaline was still pumping in his body and when he felt Harry’s hand on his shoulder, he nearly jumped out of his skin. When he opened his eyes again, they were inside the doors of Grimmauld Place. He glanced around as Kreacher approached them. He glanced over at Harry who nodded at him in greeting and then spoke.

“Kreacher, Draco is going to be staying with us for a bit so… do your best to see to it he gets fed and give him anything else he might require.”

The house-elf looked like he wanted to bow to Draco but stopped, nodding obediently instead before he disappeared into the kitchen. Draco glanced around the house, never having stepped foot inside a place that technically used to be Bellatrix Lestrange’s home as well; it was an odd feeling.

“Can I look at your hand? It probably needs stitches.”

Draco had half forgotten about his hand as well as his neck. He nodded and hesitantly handed Harry his hand, feeling a tingling sensation run through his body when he felt Harry examine it. He searched Harry’s face and felt unsure why he was even here. He shouldn’t have let Harry bring him back here. This was a mistake. Harry was going to kill him, one way or another. He _had_ to. They had been enemies in school and now Draco was to believe that they could put their grudges aside and suddenly get along? It was unrealistic.

“It _does_ need stitches. Come with me into the bathroom and then you can shower and put fresh clothes on.”

Draco followed him upstairs towards the bathroom, passing three separate bedrooms along the way. The rooms looked tidy, nearly spotless, but it still had that magical charm to it; candles floated in the corners of the room Harry had led him into. There was a couple candles floating above the mirror in the bathroom and he watched as Harry pulled out a needle and thread and a small white rag before he held it firmly to Draco’s open cut on his palm, causing him to hiss and flinch back in pain.

“S-Sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you but… we need to stop the bleeding, Draco,” Harry spoke softly, looking at him with kind eyes.

He nodded reluctantly and moved his hand back over to him so Harry could fix him up. He looked away, unable to watch the needle pierce his skin. He let out a strangled groan when he felt it. “Why aren’t you using your wand to heal me? I-It would be a lot less hassle for you, wouldn’t it?”

Harry didn’t take his eyes off of what he was doing. “I could use my wand, but I guess it’s just instinct for me to do things the muggle way, living eleven years with my Aunt and Uncle.” Harry was quiet for a few moments as he focused on the surgery before he spoke again. “Before we get too comfortable here, I need to make sure that we’re on the same page.”

Draco nodded, breathing heavily as Harry continued to quickly, but carefully stitch him up. “O-Okay…”

“Good,” Harry used his free hand to gently roll up Draco’s sleeve, an action that Draco started to protest but then saw the look in Harry’s eyes and sighed, letting the ex-Gryffindor reveal his Mark on his forearm. He heard a deep sigh come out of Harry, almost as if he were disappointed, but then he felt him continue to go back to stitching again. “I saw you fighting other Death Eaters that day.”

“You want to know what side I’m on,” Draco spoke knowingly, finally turning his head back towards him.

Harry nodded. “That would be nice to know. It would also make my job a lot easier.”

Harry finished sewing his wound up and cut off the excess with his wand and wrapped gauze around his hand a few times. He then tilted Draco’s head up to look at the shallow cut on his neck.

“I-It wouldn’t matter what side I’m on,” Draco replied quietly. “You have a job to do, and no one would believe it if you told them I was on your side. They won’t believe I’ve changed.”

Harry put a quick butterfly bandage on the cut and then threw out the papers and excess thread. He was quiet for a while before he leaned against the sink and searched Draco’s eyes. “They’ll believe me if I tell them. Look, I’m tired of killing the bad guys and being that person that has to save the day. I’ve gone through seven years of that bullshit and I just can’t do it anymore, Draco. Whatever answer you give me, I’m not going to turn you in, and… I’m not going to kill you. I just want you to tell me the truth, the _whole_ truth. If we’re going to live here together, we need to be able to trust the other person. So, what’s your answer? What side are you on?”

Draco swallowed hard, feeling his insides hardening as conflict took over his eyes. He took a shaky sigh. “I… want to be your side. I’m tired of being on the wrong one, and I’m tired of watching everyone I know die and… I’m tired of my father telling me what I should be, but…” he trailed off, groaning in frustration. “I can’t. I can’t do this. I can’t be what everyone wants me to be. It’s… i-it’s too much! It’s too much…”

He felt tears burning in his eyes and he quickly reached up to rub them, looking away. He wasn’t going to fucking cry in front of Potter, for seemingly no reason at all. Anxiety wasn’t a good excuse to cry. He cleared his throat, suddenly realizing how dry it was.

“Hey, it’s all right,” Harry tried to reassure him, obviously surprised to see him breaking down like this. “You don’t have to _be_ anything. Just take a shower, I’ll leave, and come downstairs for lunch and… we can talk some more if you want. We can just… talk about whatever. I didn’t mean to upset you, okay? Here,” Harry said as he grabbed a large, crimson towel and placed it on the sink. “Take a deep breath, get clean. Pretend I didn’t ask you anything, all right, mate? Just… do what you need to do and come downstairs. Take however much time you need.”

Draco was taken back by Harry’s caring tone of voice. He found himself slowly relaxing again and then nodded.

“Good. I’ll see you soon then.” He slipped out of the room, leaving Draco to his thoughts.

 _Goddamn it. Why did he have to show weakness right then, in front of Potter?_ He had never done that. He had always been the one quick with a snarky comeback or a quick counter spell. But he felt completely derailed being in Harry’s presence again. His father would be ashamed of him, on every level.

Draco hadn’t had the stones to kill Harry, the Auror. He had let himself be caught and taken back to a secret location where Harry could just call anyone he wanted to come and kill Draco themselves. He was such a fucking disappointment. The situation was just so ridiculous. And of course, there was the matter that every time he saw the dark-haired boy, his heart fluttered in his chest and his stomach tightened nervously.

But maybe that was just the authoritarian aspect of this particular situation. Then again, maybe it was something else entirely.


End file.
